And Back Again
by thegingeRNightowl
Summary: When Jaime finds himself pulled through a set of standing stones, he is utterly confused. Luckily Claire has followed him through and is there to guide the way. In their search for a way back home Claire and Jaime will meet new people and someone Claire thought dead. R/R to find out how the story will end! Sorry, I suck at summaries. Rated T for now, may turn into M later.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I do not own any of Diana Gabaldon's characters, just my own originals. This was just something I thought of in class today and decided to see how you guys like it. It's short, I know, but R/R and I'll see if it's worth pursuing. :)**

Chapter One

Jamie yelled as fell flat on his arse. He felt as though he had been drug through the mud by an unbroken filly and then thrown from his seat by an unruly stallion. Every muscle in his body ached. His legs felt as though they would falter under his weight as he stood up. He looked around him in drew in a quick breath. This was not the same hill they had been on mere minutes ago, he was sure of it. He turned around and looked at the stones that had spit him out like an unappetizing meal. The stones, however, were the same. They hadn't changed at all.

As he gazed at the stones, they started to blur and grow fuzzy, then, suddenly, Claire was in his arms, crying out in pain. They both fell to the ground.

"Claire!" he shouted, trying to rouse her. She responded only be groaning and moving in his arms. That was enough for Jaime, she was alive. He smoothed her brown curls from her forehead. The action brought her around. She groggily blinked her eyes at him.

"Jaime?" she asked, confused, "What happened?" As she sat up and looked around, Claire's eyes grew large and she was able to answer that question for herself. She stood up and walked to the outer ring of stones before turning back to him and asking with big eyes, "How is this possible?"

"I don't know, mo nighean donn. I do not know." Jaime stood up and thought back. "I remember standing with Bri and Roger, investigating the circle they had found. You were there, telling Brianna and Roger not to get to close to them. Then suddenly I heard screaming coming from the stones and the wind started howling and I felt my body being pulled toward them, against my will. Then, I was here." He looked at her with disbelief and confusion in his eyes. She understood what he was going through, after all, she had been through the stones before. Twice.

"Do you still hear the stones?" she asked him, hoping his answer was yes. If that was the case, they would leave here immediately and that would be the end of it, just another misadventure in their anything-but-ordinary life together.

"No," he said. "They're as silent as the grave itself."

Claire's shoulders dropped in disappointment as she looked from her husband to the stones. They were still humming in her ears and she knew without a doubt she could get back through, but she also knew that Jaime could not. Damn.

As she stared at the stones, she wondered what had made it so Jaime was able to travel through them in the first place. He had never been able to before. What had changed? He must have been pulled through for a purpose. If there was one thing she had learned from her travels it was that the stones always had a purpose for their travelers. She had thought she was done with them, apparently not.

"We're stuck here, aren't we lass?" Jaime asked from behind her.

She turned around to face him, "Yes, Jaime. Yes we are. Welcome to 20th century Inverness, Scotland."


	2. Chapter 2

**Discalimer-I don't own anything about Claire and Jamie. I don't own Outlnader. The original story and characters are mine. Yadayadayada, you all know the drill.**

 **Author's Note- Ok. So, this story blew up more than I was expecting. First, I would like to apologize for a little mistake I made in the first chapter. I spelt Jamie's name wrong the same way for the entire chapter. I truly don't know how it happened, so I apologize for that. Secondly, ya'll are scarin' me a little with how much you liked that first chapter. I'm still new at this so anyone liking my writing is a foreign sensation. Thirdly, thank you so much to AtHeart150, top story, MeredithRobbins, and lamenegati for your reviews, they really made my day and I will try not to disappoint you. Finally, this chapter is a lot longer than the first. Enjoy!**

Jamie watched Claire as she descended down the hill, skirts hiked up nearly to her knees. She walked with a sure foot and a steady gait, like she knew where she was going, like she knew what would happen at the end of the trail. A trail, he realized, that hadn't been there when he'd last been to Craigh na Dun. He took a deep breath and shook his head. He knew, logically, that of course things would be different because they were two hundred years in the future, but, despite the fact that he knew his wife was a time traveler and he had heard her stories of the future before, he was having a difficult time wrapping his head around the idea of it all happening to _him_.

"Claire," he called out, "lass, where are we goin'? Ye're walkin' around like ye know precisely what ye're up to, but do ye?"

Claire stopped and looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath before she turned to face him.

"No, Jamie, I don't know exactly what I am doing or where we are going. I do know, however, that we couldn't stay on top of that hill forever, much as we'd like to. I'm hoping that when we get to the road we are lucky enough to be able to catch a ride with someone headed into the town. If not, we've got one hell of a walk ahead of us."

Jamie sighed, "What about when we get to the town?" he asked.

Claire blinked. To be honest, she hadn't thought that far ahead yet. "Let's just get to town first, Jamie. I need to find a newspaper to figure out the date and we'll go from there."

Jamie nodded, understanding most of what his wife was telling him. They walked along, both in quiet, introspective thought. Neither knew what was going to happen at the end of the road.

Claire was thinking how this was just the very last thing she wanted to deal with right now. She had family, friends, and patients back home and an unplanned trip into the future was not what she, or any other doctor for that matter, had ordered. She looked at the paved road ahead of them with contempt; remembering the last time she had made the trek down that hill, alone, pregnant, and scared. She stopped when she got onto the road and it took her a second to realize Jamie was not beside her.

Jamie was thinking about how the world had changed so very much, and not nearly at all. The sky was still the same bright blue it had been this morning when he'd woken up in 1771. The grass was still green and the dirt was still brown, but it didna smell the same. He remembered the smell of Scotland more than anything and the memory of the earth, wet with the morning dew was one of his strongest memories. It smelled different. There was none of the familiarity to it that there should have been. The grass seemed harsher and the sky cloudier. This may be Scotland, but this was not the Scotland he remembered. It had changed.

Both of them looked up the road when they heard a sound.

Claire smiled, they were in luck.

Jamie frowned, what the bloody hell was the gawd awful sound?

Claire jogged off the road and grabbed Jamie's hand.

"Looks like Lady Luck is with us today. Somebody's coming." She said.

Jamie eyed his wife and wondered, for not the first time, if she was all there in the head. He trusted her though, so he looked in the same direction she was looking. It came around the bend faster than he could have imagined. His eyes grew wide as it barreled towards them. Claire dropped her his hand and waved at thing. Miraculously, it started to slow. She took a step toward it and Jamie, panicked reached out to grab her. Claire looked back at him and smiled that smile he had seen a thousand times in a hundred different situations. _Trust me_ it said. He dropped his hand and his wife walked up to the thing that had stopped in front of them.

It opened up and a man stepped out.

"Ye folks look fit for the day!" He stated, rather jovially. He was a stout man with a balding head and grey in his beard. "Reenactors, are ye? Aye, they've been infesting the village all week waitin' fer today."

"Reenactors?" Claire asked, with dread filling her body.

"Englishwoman are ye? That explains it. It's the 16th of April, 1971. 225 years ago today, my ancestors rose up against yours in a fight for our independence. We may have lost that day, but it didna kill our fighting spirit, aye? I'm a history professor in Edinburgh, ye ken."

Claire tried to interrupt the longwinded Scotsman. She should have known that wasn't going to happen.

He kept talking, "There was a big reenactment of it this morning and celebrations to be held all day in remembrance of the fallen. Ye'll be needin' a lift to the field to partake in these jubilations I suppose? Well, never let it be said we Scots have lost our manners towards ye British. I never did get your name? Come to think of it, I didna give ye mine either. Och, forgive me lass, tis a big day and my mind isna what it used to be. The names Andy McLellan."

He stuck out his hand awaiting her response. Jamie, felling slightly disgruntled that this man hadn't spoken directly to him once during this entire conversation stepped around Claire before she could say anything.

"James Fraiser and this is my wife, Claire." He said, shaking the mans soft hands. Jamie grunted. This man hadn't done a day of hard labor in his life.

"Oh! So ye are Scots then. Well, as one Scot to another, let me offer you a ride to the memorial."

Claire tried to interrupt, "Oh we couldn't poss-"

"Nonsense," Mr. McLellan said, "Ye'll be ridin' with me and that's the end of it. Can't leave ye out here with no car. How did ye get up here without a car anyway?"

"We were dropped off," Claire answered quickly, "They were supposed to come pick us up, but I guess they must've gotten swept up in the celebrations."

"Well than, can't have none of that. Into the car, both of ya." Mr. McLellan said as he opened the back door for them.

Claire sighed, and as she could see no way out of this, she slid into the backseat and gestured that Jamie should do the same. The atmosphere in the backseat was tense as McLellan got into the driver's seat and started the car up again. They both knew where they were headed and neither wanted anything to do with the 'celebrations'. Jamie's jaw was clenched and his hand was fisted. Claire grabbed it and pulled it into her lap, leaning into him for both her support and his. They would get through this. They always had.

"We're off to Culloden!" McLellan yelled from the driver's seat as they pulled away.

 **Author's Note-I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm not sure when the next one will be up, but my hope is that you don't have to wait longer than two weeks. Until next time! Please review, I love hearing what you guys think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer-Still don't own Outlander or Jamie (how very unfortunate that is), both are still Ms. Gabaldon's creations. The original plot and all of the other characters are mine however.**

 **Author's Note- Oh my gosh! I am so sorry it has been so long guys. I feel awful. School is just taking up so much of my time. I promise, I will keep updating until this story id finished. I will not abandon you! It just might take awhile and there might be a few long breaks between chapters. Sorry. This chapter is a little bit longer than my others, though, hopefully that makes up for my tardiness a bit. So, quick note: I do not actually know if anything is done to remember the battle of Culloden and if it is, I doubt very much that it looks like what I have imagined, but this is my story so I can do what I want, haha! Thank you to everyone who read, favorited, and/or reviewed. You guys keep me going. Although you also make me the most nervous because now I have added pressure not to screw up! Anyways! On with the story! Let me know what you all think! xoxo**

The car ride to the ancient battlefield was tense to say the least. McLellan was jabbering on about some historical nonsense about the battle in the front seat. Neither Claire nor Jamie were listening. They didn't need to, not when they had lived the history.

Claire held Jamie's hand as she looked out the window of the car, watching the scenery pass by as they came closer and closer to the place that represented the darkest hours of her life. The place where she had believed for twenty years that she had lost her love, her soulmate, her Jamie. She could feel the tension and emotions rolling off of him in waves. She looked down at where their hands met and saw that his knuckles were white. It wasn't until that moment that Claire realized her hand hurt. A lot. She gently squeezed his hand. He looked over at her with eyes filled with pain and looked down at their hands. Realizing just how hard he was squeezing her hand, Jamie quickly released it. Claire gave him a gentle smile. She understood why he had held her hand so tightly. She needed it as much as he did. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder, lending her husband her strength. They sat like that, anchoring each other in the moment. Both trying to fight back the memories.

Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire and shuddered. He was going back. Back to that place; the place that had taken so much from him. His clan, his country, nearly his life. More than that though, Culloden Moor had stolen Claire from him. That bloody battle had forced him to give up his wife and unborn bairn. It had stolen twenty years with them away from him. For that alone he would curse the Bonny Prince until the end of his days for acting so impulsive, stubborn, and foolhardy. The actions of one ignorant man had cost the lives of hundreds of men and forced an entire country to its knees. He had lost friends on that field. He had lost family. He had lost Murtagh. His heart constricted in his chest. Twenty-Three years had passed, yet his heart still ached for his friend, his brother.

Husband and wife were both knocked out of their recollections when the car stopped. Jamie and Claire looked at each other. The stop could mean only one thing. They were back. As they stepped out of the car, hearts racing, both had their breath taken away. The battlefield had been transformed. Each clan stone had a memorial table in front of it, covered in the clan's plaid, upon the plaids were flowers, letters, and candles. Bagpipes played in the background. There were paths between the headstones marked with brown paper bags that Claire knew held candles that would be lit when the sky darkened enough. Noticing the confused look on Jamie's face, Claire explained this to him. In the very middle was the memorial stone for the battle, covered in the plaid of every clan that had fought on that day, braids and wreaths of heather were strewn on and around the stone, and in front of it was a podium. There were people everywhere.

"There's so many people." Jamie said, in awe.

McLellan smiled wryly, "Aye," he said, "Never let it be said that the Scots don't remember. We remember better and far longer than most. There's a memorial service every year to remember the fallen, but this year one of the families wanted to do something special. The young lass that coordinated it was determined to remember a fallen ancestor on this year especially, something about finding a long lost member of their clan."

"What was the name of the lass, do you recall?" Jamie questioned.

McLellan sighed and folded his arms across his chest as he tried to remember. He absentmindedly started stroking his grey beard. He snapped his fingers, "Murray," he said, "That was it. I remember because I had just seen that Broch Tuarach had recently been purchased by a Murray and I'd asked her if it had been her family doin' the purchasing. She'd replied, aye, it had been. She'd been especially happy about that I recall. Told me it had been her families' home for generations until the Second Great War when finances had forced them to sell. She had told me that she was keeping a promise in buyin' it back. She'd said that with that Scottish twinkle in her eye and I knew, she was indeed a Murray and a Fraser. Their related ye know. Oy, didn't you say your name was Fraser? That's a coincidence if I ever heard one." McLellan chuckled to himself. "Well, I'd best be off to find the wee lass. She'll be needed help, I'm sure. Enjoy the celebrations!" With that he was gone before Jamie could so much as utter a single sound.

Claire watched him leave, half in shock half in awe, "That man is without doubt the most long-winded fellow I've ever had the misfortune to speak to." She stated, confidently.

"He said Murray, Claire. Murray's who lived in Broch Tuarach. That means I've kin alive in this time. Jenny's and Ian's grandchildren." Jamie said, barely able to comprehend the topic he was speaking of. Claire smiled up at him, understanding. It was a strange thought to them both. When Claire had been in Inverness with Brianna, she had visited Broch Tuarach, but when she discovered it was no longer in the family she had just assumed that it was because there was no more family. Claire had never been happier to be wrong.

"I can hardly believe it as well," she replied, "Do you think we should go find her, try to talk to her? Our situation being what it is, we'd have to hide certain truths, but you could at least meet her."

Jamie smiled down at his wife and once again thanked God for giving him such a woman as her.

"I think I'd like that very much, Sassenach."

He grabbed her hand and started in the direction that McLellan had walked off in. Claire walked beside him, smiling, glad that being back here wasn't the horrific experience she had been expecting. It gave her hope to think of something good coming from this place and meeting this long lost relative would hopefully be a good thing.

A loud sound came from the middle of the gathering, where the main memorial was. Andy McLellan stood in front of the podium. A hush fell over the crowd.

"Lads and Ladies! Good afternoon, my name is Andrew McLellan. I'm a professor of history at the University of Edinburgh. We all know why we are here today. What most of ye won't be knowin' is why we are here in such grandeur. Well, to explain that I would like to introduce to you Genevieve Murray of Clan Fraser!"

With that he left the podium and a young girl, no older than Brianna, stepped forward. Claire heard Jamie take a deep, quick breath, shocked, for there was no doubt in his mind that this was the descendant of Jenny Fraser Murray.


	4. Not an update!

Hi everyone! *insert nervous laughter here* Sooooo, long time, no write. I am sooooooooo sorry! :( I did NOT mean to abandon this story for so long. School got really overwhelming and I need to take a step back from my writing so I could finish strong. Which, you will all be glad to know, I have. I just graduated from nursing school this past weekend annnnnd I have a job set up for as soon as I pass the NCLEX. One more big test and I am done with school for a very long time. So, YAY for me! But, y'all don't care about that, you care about the story. I DO plan on finishing both of the stories I currently have going and I have plans for a Star Wars story and possibly some Avengers fics, so be on the lookout for those. Now, I'd better go finish writing those chapters I promised you. xoxo


	5. Chapter 4

Authors Note- **HEHEHE! I told you I'd get this up. Bet you didn't believe me, but I did it! I really hope you guys are still out there and want to read my stuff. I am determined to finish this story. Things are gonna get super cray-cray in the chapter. We are going way out of the realm of canon and into the deep depths of my imagination. Scary, I know. Let me know what you guys think. I love reading your reviews! xoxo**

Genevieve Murray looked out at the crowd gathered before her and felt like puking. She could not believe she was actually doing this. It was insane. What had she been thinking? Genny forced herself to take a deep breath. She was doing this for family. With that, she held her head up high and spoke from the heart.

"Thank you, Mr. McLellan, for that introduction. Now, how about I tell you all a little bit about myself? I was born in Scotland, however, after my father died, my mum remarried and we moved to London, hence the accent." Genny smiled as she heard the crowd chuckle, "But my heart never left Scotland. Everything I have ever done in my life has been in pursuit of regaining Broch Tuarach. It was my family's ancestral seat, the place where our hearts lived and thrived. It broke my grandfather when he was forced to sell it during the War, but times were tough and he chose his family over his home.

"Family is everything to me, to my entire family. We are guided by family, love, and home. Today, I am pleased to announce, that I have signed the final papers that have officially brought Broch Tuarach back into my family."

The crowd broke into applause and cheers for this young girl. They may not have known her personally, but they knew her struggle and they recognized her fighting spirit. It resided in the heart of every Scot, binding them together. So it didn't matter that this girl did not sound like them, because she had never stopped being one of them.

Genny smiled at the support she was getting from these strangers. She held up her hand, asking for silence.

"Thank you, everyone, for your support. You have no idea what it means to me, but my regaining my family's ancestral home is not the reason I stand in front of you today. Today, we are gathered here to honor, remember, and celebrate all of our ancestors."

A great cry rang out from everyone in the crowd. All of the clans honoring their fallen in the way that the Scots are known for. With boisterous cheers and free-flowing whiskey.

Jamie looked around at the crowd gathered to honor the men he had known and fought with, fought for, with tears in his eyes and a sense of humility. Never in all of his years would he ever have guessed that the men who were slaughtered on the field that day would be remembered, if not in name, at least in action, 225 years later.

Claire looked up at him and held his hand. She leaned her face into his shoulder, offering her silent support. His other arm reached around to pull her into an embrace.

"We all know the story, how Bonny Prince Charlie stood his ground against the British 225 years ago. We know how the shots rang out and the powder burned and when the smoke cleared the grass of Culloden Moor had been fed its own countrymen's blood. In little under an hour, nearly 2,000 brave Scotsmen were dead and another 200 were captured. It was a devastating loss and marked the end of the Jacobite rebellion and the beginning of the oppression of the Highland culture and way of life."

Genny paused and looked out over her captive audience. Every single one of these people knew the story she was telling. They knew the beginning, middle, and ending. Yet, here they were, standing before her, completely entranced. One face stood out among the many. A man with red hair. A man who looked very much like- No, it couldn't be, that wasn't in any of her grandfather's stroies. Genny shook her head and prepared to end her speech.

"Life after Culloden was forever changed. We abided by their rules. We gave up our tartans and our pipes. We even stopped speaking Gaelic."

She smiled, "Highlanders, however, are not so easily defeated. We played their game during the light of day, we played it when we were in public, but behind closed doors and in the dark, we persevered. We whispered to our bairns in our ancient language. We taught them to play the pipes softly. We hid our tartans. Our culture had become secret, illicit, and dangerous. Just like the land we lived on."

The crowd exploded into cheers, Claire and Jamie among them.

Genny continued, "That was what the British didn't understand 225 years ago. They could beat us, murder us, and oppress us, but unless they took our land from us, we would persevere! This land," Genny threw her hands up and gestured around her, "is the lifeblood of every Scottish man, woman, and child! They tried removing us from our home, but that just infuriated us. They tried murdering our families, but that just made us resolute. To truly defeat us, they would have had to burn our land and make it uninhabitable. Only then, would we have well and truly been defeated."

Genny took a breath and waited for the cheering to die down a little. Time to wrap it up.

"So we stand here today, on this field, because we persevered. We took what was thrown at us and we flourished in the dark they forced us into. We stand here today, in the darkness no longer. We stand here to honor these men who fell and prove to them that their sacrifice was not pointless. Their deaths did not mark our end."

The sun had dipped down to the horizon by this point, just as Genny had planned. She pulled out her match box and stepped down off the platform, taking the microphone with her.

"I, like many of you, had family at that doomed battle. If you look around you, you'll notice brown paper bags with candles in them. Each of these lanterns represents a fallen soldier," she lit her match and held it to the wick until it ignited, "We light these candles to remind us of not only those we have lost, but of the fighting spirit that lives in all Scots."

Genny watched as men and woman started lighting the lanterns across the field. The red haired man and a woman with brown curly hair each lit one. She watched as the couple leaned on each other. There was something about them that struck a chord with Genny. They looked so familiar. Like an old blurry photograph or a dream. She just couldn't quite place them.

As the last of the lanterns lit up the dusky night air, Genny finished her speech, "Ladies and gentleman, there isn't much more that I can say that hasn't already been said, so I'll leave you with this, Je Suis Prest."

Frasers took up her cry, and the other clans joined in with theirs. Genny walked back up onto the stage, put the microphone back, and, amid the cries of her countrymen, bowed before leaving the stage.

Unbeknownst to Genny, the red haired man and the woman with the curly brown hair quietly and quickly were making their way through the crowd to her.


	6. Chapter 5

**He. Sooooooooooo. Long time, no write. I am so sorry. I know I promised I would get more regular with the updates after school, but life happens guys. That's all I got for ya. If it helps at all the reason this chapter is so late is because I've spent the last few months planning my wedding that will be taking place in two weeks. Just in case that helps. But anyhooooow. I hope you guys enjoy this story, I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors I'm running on three hours of sleep right now. Please R/R if there is anyone still following this story. I applaud your perseverance! Enjoy!**

As Genny left the stage she couldn't shake the idea that she had known that couple. There was just something about them, their look, their mannerisms, they were all so familiar. Like an old photograph or a faded memory. Something that she had known at one point, but couldn't quite remember.

Genny was so busy wracking her brain for these lost thoughts that she failed to pay attention to where she was going. One second, Genny was walking towards her car and the next it was like God himself had thrown a brick wall in her path. Genny stumbled backwards, startled, and started to automatically apologize.

"Oh! Oh, I am so sor-," all thought stopped as Genny made eye contact with her obstacle. Dark blue eyes, like the sea on a stormy day. Eyes she knew. Suddenly she knew why this man looked so familiar to her. Without warning, the world began to spin around her and she didn't know which way was up anymore. Stories, long since forgotten, stashed away in a part of her mind reserved for the frivolous and silly things of childhood. Pushed down by the logic and reasoning of an adult mind. This was impossible. Flashes of a face, new in her life, so like the one in front of her now. So many coincidences, so many memories, old and new all swirling into one big mess. Her grandfather's voice telling a very young and very little Genny-girl to never forget her families story because it was one of-

"Warriors, angels, and fairy magic. OH MY GOD, YOU'RE JAMES FRASER!" She screeched in a shocked voice before she looked over at the brunette with the curls that looked like they were never tame and stated in a very sure, but timidly quiet voice, "And you're Claire Randall. All the stories make senses now."

Genny wasn't entirely sure what happened next she saw the big redheaded man smiling a little half smile and then his eyes going big and his arms reaching for her. The ground sure was closer than it should have been to her face.

Jamie managed to grab the little brunette before she could hit the ground and do any real damage to herself. He looked up at Claire who was already there, inspecting Genny.

Claire felt Genny's pulses and checked her pupillary reactions and smiled.

"She'll be fine. Just in a little bit of shock. We should get her somewhere warmer and inside." Claire looked up at the sky and took note of the ever growing storm clouds that seemed to live in perpetuity above the highland moors. "Sooner rather than later if those clouds are anything to go off of," she finished.

"Aye, but where to, Sassenach? We have nowhere to go." Jamie asked as he readjusted Genny in his arms so they would both be more comfortable.

Claire, who had been rummaging through the bag that Genny had dropped, pulled her hand out with a look of serene victory on her face as she held up two keys, one that was clearly for an automobile (Although Jamie did not make this connection until Claire explained it to him later) and a second one that was much older and familiar to both of them.

"Yes we do, Jamie. Home."

It took them some time to find Genny's car as the only way to figure that out seemed to be to simply try and unlock every car and hope that it wouldn't take them all night to do so. Their second, conundrum came when Jamie pointed out that Genny may have come with friends and they would be depriving those young people of their ride. That was quickly shot down by Claire who was growing increasingly more frustrated as car after car that they tried was not the right one.

"They'll be fine, Jaimie, there are plenty of people here who could give them a ride back into town if necessary. Besides, she didn't seem to be waiting for anybody. Aha!" Claire gave an exuberant explanation as she opened the door to a small four door car and motioned for Jamie to put Genny in.

Claire then climbed into the driver's seat and waited for Jaime to get in the front passenger seat. When he didn't she looked back to find him in the backseat. She tilted her head to the side and cocked an eyebrow at him.

He looked at her and blinked, "What?"

"Are you going to ride back there or come sit up front with me?" she asked.

Jamie eyed the passenger seat warily, took a deep breath and nodded before he climbed out and into the front seat.

"Put your seat belt on," Claire told him, "it's the strap there and the little metal end clicks into this bit here." She pointed as she talked, gently guiding him. She knew this was hard for him. It was such a different time and nothing was how it was back home. She remembered how she felt when she went through the stones the first time.

Claire leaned over and gave him a quick, soft kiss, smiling at him, reassuring him.

"You helped me when I didn't know what to do, now it's my turn," she said.

He smiled, put his fingers under her chin and gently kissed her back, "I couldn't have asked for a better teacher."

She smiled at him, turned the key and put the car in gear. As Claire's foot came off the clutch, the car lurched and promptly died. Jamie's eyes went wide and he stared at her. Claire's cheeks went pink.

"Sorry. It's been awhile since I've driven a car. It'll just take a second to come back to me." Claire turned the key and tried again, this time easing more slowly off the clutch and giving just a teensy bit of gas before she felt the gear catch and the car pull forward. "See, I knew I remembered how to do it." She beamed over at Jamie and although he wasn't entirely sure what she had done, he was proud of her nonetheless.

The drive was a fairly quiet one, each person lost in their own thoughts and Genny still passed out in the backseat. She was lightly snoring now, but that didn't bother either of the passengers in the front seat. Jamie, because he was too deep in thought about how much his homeland had changed in 225 years and Claire, well, it didn't bother Claire because she was used to sleeping with Jamie. Next to Jamie any snore sounded like a mere whisper compared to his bear calls.

As they came around a bend, Jamie heard the trickling of a nearby river and looked up. There in front of him was his childhood home, a little worse for the wear, in need of some hard work and love, but still standing even after all this time. After leaving the hands of the Frasers and finding its way back to them, Broch Turach still stood tall and proud before him.

Claire looked over at him and quietly whispered, "Welcome home, James Fraser."


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey all. So I know it's been awhile, but I'm hoping that the absurd length of this update will make that up to you all. Fair warning, I go very far off the reservation in this one and very much into my own imaginings. More to come later! R/R always appreciated.**

 _November 1948_

"Push, Claire, you have to push now!"

Claire could hear the doctor yelling at her to push, but the world felt like it was swirling around her. She could barely make out the doctor's face and despite the air and gas they'd forced her to use she could still feel everything. It felt like she was on fire. She could feel the pressure and knew she had to push, but she didn't have the energy. She didn't have the will. Jamie was gone. Frank had made her promise to forget about him, but how could she do that? She could no sooner put out the sun. For that was what he was to her. Her sun. The light that kept her warm; that set her on fire. Her light that scared the darkness away.

Suddenly she could see a face in front of her. It was a warm face. It had blue eyes like him. Claire felt like she was going under water.

The face yelled at her, "Don't you dare, Claire! Don't you dare die on me!"

The face's voice was female. Claire wondered why the face cared if she lived or died. She dropped her and it fell to the side. She took a breath. There was a man in the corner of the room. She took another slow breath. She couldn't see him clearly, he was all blurry. He reached for her. The man looked dirty, but there was a glorious frame of Brilliant red around his face.

"Jamie," Claire breathed out in barely a whisper. She reached for him.

"Ye can't give up, Mo Nighean Donn. Fight. For me. For our bairn. Don't give up."

"Jamie," She whispered again. The man started to fade away and she reached harder for him.

"Jamie!" She screamed and pushed with all her might.

The doctor was startled, but started rattling off his usual phrases of encouragement. He'd never seen anything like that. She was on the verge of death. He was getting ready to yell for an OR to do an emergency C-seciton, but she was fine now. He wasn't about to ask who this Jamie was.

The nurse who had been standing over Claire cocked her head and smiled. She had been doing this for years and seen all sorts of different labors. Every single mother had that one thing that they would do anything for. For most of them it was to get the pain to stop, for others it was food, for Claire it seemed to be this Jamie. Funny, the nurse could have sworn her husband's name was Frank, but that was not for her to say. She grabbed Claire's hand and went back to coaching her through her contractions.

Claire felt someone grabbed her hand and looked up hoping to see Jamie. It wasn't. It was the face from before, but now Claire understood that the face was her nurse.

"Welcome back, Claire. Now hows about we get you through this so you can meet your little one?" The nurse said.

Claire nodded and squeezed her hand.

The hours went by like molasses in the winter. The pain never let up. But still she kept pushing because she knew that was what Jamie would want her to do. Because if she gave up, not only would she die, but so would their child and she refused to let that happen again. So she kept pushing and breathing, pushing and breathing, until she heard the doctor say, "There's the head, Claire, just a couple more!"

Claire felt the tears start down her cheeks. She pushed as hard as she could. She put all of her pain and frustration and fear into the next three pushes. Then a baby's cry broke the silence of the delivery room and Claire's tears started flowing freely.

"It's a girl," the doctor said, "a beautiful girl with a head full of red fuzz."

The nurse handed the baby to Claire and Claire sobbed as she held the proof of her and Jamie's love. This precious child. This gift that she had been given. She sobbed for joy and for sadness. For the loss of a husband and a father. For all the things Jamie would not be there for. As she was sobbing she felt something move inside of her and looked at the doctor.

He had his head between her legs and for a moment Claire thought she should be embarrassed, then she scoffed at herself. After all, that's where he'd been for the past five hours.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" she asked. Then she felt it; another contraction. They shouldn't hurt that much anymore, right? She made eye contact with the doctor. His eyes were worried.

"Claire, I need you to not push. No matter how much you want to."

Claire nodded. "What's wrong?"

"Nurse, take the baby from Mrs. Randall and call in another nurse to get her washed up and sent to the nursery please. Then I need you to help me get Mrs. Randall to the OR," he looked back at Claire, "Claire, you are carrying another baby. That baby's cord has prolapsed, meaning tha-"

"I know what it means, doctor, I'm a nurse at this hospital." Claire may have known what it meant, but her mind was struggling to comprehend that she had been carrying twins completely unaware and now she may lose a second child.

"Then you know, that if you push, the baby's head will compress the cord and cut off its oxygen supply."

Claire nodded.

Three more nurses came in and took her baby girl from her. Her arms felt empty. As they were wheeling her out the door, one of them asked Claire what she had named the baby.

"Brianna. Brianna Ellen."

That was the last thing that she remembered. The rest was flashes. Pain as she screamed through a contraction that she couldn't push with. The mask coming down over her face. 100. White walls. 99. Faces all around her. 98. A scalpel. 97. Darkness.

Claire opened her eyes slowly. It was hard, the drugs must still be wearing off. She was in a hospital room. The plain walls gave it away. There was a weight on her bed. She turned her head and looked down.

Frank.

He had fallen asleep. It wasn't the face she wanted to see. She didn't want to admit it, but sometimes when she looked at him, she could still see Black Jack. She knew it wasn't him; that they were completely different people. Sometimes though, she saw flashes of Black Jack in Frank and it terrified her. She lifted her hand and rested it on his head. Still, he was her first love and deserved her loyalty.

Frank jerked awake.

"Claire!" He exclaimed as he grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"The babies?" She asked.

"You hemorrhaged while you were on the table. You lost so much blood."

"Frank, the babies?" she asked again.

"You were so pale when they brought you back here. Claire, I couldn't bear to lose you again."

"Frank! Are my babies ok?" She said as loudly as she could. She was exhausted. She moved her hand out of his grip.

Frank looked startled. "They're fine. Both of them. Healthy." Almost as an afterthought, he added "It was a boy. The second one. A girl and a boy."

Claire choked on a quiet sob, "A boy?"

Frank looked at her with sad eyes. "A boy. With red hair, just like his sister."

"Did you name him?" she asked quietly.

"No. I thought that would be best left to you."

"Thank you, Frank." She thought for a moment, "Alexander Franklin Randall. If you're ok with that, Frank." She looked up at him pleading with her eyes.

Frank looked down. "A strong name," he said before standing up. "I'll go see if the nurses will bring them in for you to see."

He walked across the room, but then stopped at the door. Without turning around he said quietly, "Thank you, Claire." With that he left.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief and then smiled as she felt the tears begin again. Two. Two little pieces of Jamie to love and cherish.

 _March 1955_

They were in the hospital. They shouldn't have been. If only Claire hadn't been late her baby girl wouldn't be here. That stupid baby sitter, what was she thinking leaving the children alone for any amount of time. She knew them! She knew how rambunctious Brianna and Alex could be. They were in the road!

"I'm quitting school. Pulling myself out of the program. It's the only answer," Claire said, "I'll watch over the children while you're at work."

"No, Claire, don't. You can't quit the program it's your dream," Frank said.

"She was hit by a car, Frank!"

"It was barely moving. She only has a minor concussion."

"A concussion that I could have prevented!" Claire exclaimed, both of them completely oblivious to Alex.

Alex squirmed on the cot. He didn't like it when his parents fought. It seemed to be happening more lately. He looked down at his feet. His mom was blaming herself, but Alex knew he was really to blame. He was there, he should have stopped her, told her it was silly to go look for mom; that she'd be home soon. But he had been worried too, so instead, he'd followed her. Neither of them had seen the car and now they were here and the doctors were doing tests on his sister.

He sniffled.

Claire looked over at Alex. "Baby? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry momma, I should've stopped her and now Bree is hurt and it's all my fault." Alex started crying. He hated crying. Bree always made fun of him.

Claire took him into her arms, mortified at herself for not seeing this earlier. "No baby, no. It's not your fault at all. We all know that once Brianna sets her mind on something, she's going to do it no matter what. It's no one's fault."

"Including you, Claire." Frank said. "You can't blame yourself."

Claire sighed and nodded. She knew he was right. She had just been so terrified.

Alex sat up on her lap and got off. Sitting, Claire was face to face with her son. He was growing so fast.

He wiped the tears off of his face with the back of his sleeve and looked at his mother.

Claire gasped. His eyes, blue like his father, were full of an emotion that she had seen so many times on Jamie's face. Steel resolve. In that moment she was sure she knew what a young Jamie had looked like.

"Mom," Alex said, "I promise I will never let anything hurt Brianna ever again. I will keep her safe no matter what." He clenched his little fists at his side and stared her straight in the eye.

Claire nodded, "I believe you, Alexander. I promise that I will always be there to protect BOTH of you."

Alex hugged his mom and she hugged him back. They stayed like that for a few minutes. In that moment, Frank felt like an intruder.

 _May 1960_

It was her graduation and she felt like she was soaring. Their house was abuzz with life. Bree was running around taking pictures of everyone and everything. Alex was following her trying to be in as many pictures as he could without her noticing. It was infuriating the little red head.

Frank was actually being pleasant top her. It was nice. They'd been fighting a lot recently.

"Mom!" Bree called her, "Come here, I want a picture of you!"

Alex crawled up behind Claire and squatted, hoping his sister didn't see him.

"Alex I see you. Get out of there I just want Mom and Dad in the picture. Daddy, move closer to mom."

Frank awkwardly did as she instructed. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

The camera clicked. The doorbell rang. All hell broke loose.

He had asked a woman to pick him up at their house, on her graduation day! How dare he!

As she yelled at him, Frank calmly told Bree and Alex to go to their rooms. As they were climbing the stairs, Alex stopped half way up to listen.

"Alex, come on! You're gonna get in trouble." Bree said.

"No, I want to hear what's going on."

"Nothing good," Bree responded as she ran the rest of the way up the stairs leaving her brother. Whatever it was, Bree didn't want to know. She was better off not knowing.

Alex sat quietly and listened as his mother accused his father of inviting a whore to her party. She yelled as loudly as she could while still whispering.

His dad just looked sad. "Claire, our relationship was over a long time ago. You know that. She makes me happy."

"And what about the twins?" His mother asked, "How do you think this will make them feel. They love you!"

His dad sighed, "I will always be there for Bree. She's my princess. As for Alex, he'll be fine. He and I were never that close. How could I be close to him when I know how much he looks like Jamie? Yes, I know. Your face gives it away every time you look at him. I've done my best, but you can only ask so much of me. I will continue to be their father until their 18th birthday as we agreed upon, but I refuse to spend that time without love and if I can't get it from you I will find it somewhere else."

With that the man that he had thought was his father, walked out of the house and shut the door quietly. His mother stood there in shock before quietly asking the guests to leave.

Alex sat on the stairs for a couple of hours, not knowing what to do. Should he tell Bree? Should he just go to his room and forget he ever heard that conversation? Should he go talk to his mom?

He finally decided on talking to his mom because if Frank Randall wasn't his father he wanted to know who was. So he got up and began searching.

It was a relatively short search, she was only in his Da- Frank's office. She was sitting in his chair, facing the wall, holding a glass in her hand. Alex looked over to where the man whom he'd thought was his dad kept his liquor decanters. One was open and had a lot less in it than he remembered. His mother was mumbling to herself. Alex decided to move closer to hear.

"S'all falling apart, Jamie. Everything. I tried. I did what you told me to. I left. I went back through the stones. I tried to let Frank love me and I tried to love him. But is so hard." Her words were slurred and didn't make much sense. How do you go through stones, let alone come back through them?

"He stopped lovin' me, but he still loves Brianna. His princess he calls her. That ass. Promised he'd love 'em both, but can't bring himself to feel the same for Alex. Oh Alex. How I wish you could see him, Jamie. He's so smart and kind and ridiculous and, Frank's right, he looks just like you do. Same eyes, same hair. Sometimes I wonder if any of me is in him, then he fights with his sister and I see it. Why'd he have to get my temper? Both of 'em have it. Stupid.

She put the glass up to her forehead and moaned. Alex knew now was not the time to talk to his mother. So he quietly backed out of the room and climbed the stairs to his room thinking about a man with red hair like his and blue eyes like his named Jamie. One day, he'd find him, he thought as he fell asleep. One day he would meet his father and ask him why he had made his mother leave him.

 _April 1966_

"You most certainly are not!" Claire exclaimed.

"What are you thinking, Alex!" Brianna shouted at him.

Alex sighed. He should have known they would react like this. Especially Bree. She was still raw from their Dad's death last year. It had hit her hard. Harder than him. But she was always a daddy's girl, while he had always felt the wall that Frank had put up between them.

Alex sighed, "Yes I am and I'm thinking about doing my duty to my country, Bree. We all know it's only a matter of time before they start drafting people. Isn't better to beat them to it and get in now while the fighting still isn't that bad?"

"You have no idea what war is, Alex, and I will not let you go. I will not let you do it," Claire said, her eyes panicked.

"I'm eighteen, Mom. I don't need your permission anymore," Alex grimaced as he said that knowing it would hurt her. But he needed to go. He needed to know what he was made of. He's opened the newspaper this morning and had seen pictures of Vietnamese children, dead, and had felt this insane urge to protect them. They weren't form his country, but that didn't matter. They were children and he had the power to protect them. He had a duty to try.

Claire sucked in her breath before she plopped down into one of the kitchen chairs next to her. She rested her head in her hand. Why did he have to be so much like his father?

"Please, Alex," Bree whispered with tears in her eyes, "I can't lose you too."

Alex pulled her into his arms and comforted her.

"Don't worry, you won't lose me," he pushed her back, "but how will I be able to face myself in the mirror every morning if I can do something about what's going on over there, but don't."

Claire closed her eyes. There it was. She shook her head. Just like his father. She could still remember Jamie telling her much of the same thing when she asked him to run away with her instead of going to the battlefield. It was time to let her baby go. To let him grow up into a man.

She sighed. "Can I drive you to the recruitment office?"

 _March 1968_

"Mom, I'm home!" Bree yelled out as she came through the door. Claire smiled. She had taken a short vacation from work, just a weekend, to spend some extra time with Brianna.

"How was class, love?" She asked her daughter.

"Meh. It was class," she kissed Claire's cheek and headed for the stairs, "I'm gonna go write Alex a letter real quick. Call me when dinners ready!"

Claire chuckled. Always moving, that girl.

About twenty minutes later Claire called Bree down for dinner. They talked about Alex's last letter, pondered what Vietnam was like, and talked about Bree's classes and Claire's work. As they were cleaning up after dessert the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Bree said as she put down her drying rag. Claire smiled and watched her go.

Bree opened the door with a smile on her face, but that smile was wiped away with a look of confusion as she opened the door.

In front of her was a man. A Marine, in uniform. Bree looked at him and then to the car parked on the curb, a sense of dread coming over her.

"Can I help you?" she said.

The man looked at her with sad eyes that looked as if they had done this too many times.

"I'm looking for Mrs. Claire Randall."

Bree called for her mother over her shoulder, never taking her eyes off of the man in uniform.

Claire came around the corner and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of a uniformed man in her doorway.

"No," she whispered. She closed her eyes hoping he'd be gone when she opened them. Instead he was just closer. He'd pushed pass Brianna to come into the house.

"Ma'am, are you Claire Randall, mother to PFC Alexander Randall?"

"Yes," she whispered. Brianna came over and put her arms around her mother, both of them bracing for the uniformed man's next words.

"Ma'am, I regret to inform you that, as of three days ago, your son, PFC Alexander Franklin Randall is missing in action, presumed dead. He was doing patrols with his platoon when they were set upon by enemy combatants. You have your nation's condolences."

Claire heard the words but refused to register them. No. Not her boy. Not her Alex. Please God, no. She collapsed to the floor bringing Bree down with her. Bree held her as she wept for her lost boy, their tears mixing.

The man in uniform let himself out and left the two to mourn their loss in peace.

 _Septemeber 1968_

Claire stood with her daughter and Roger at the stones, waiting for the moment they started to sing to her. Months of research had led to this moment. Jamie had survived Culloden. He was alive and she was going to find him. Armed with a dress she'd made herself to fit the time, some modern medicine, and pictures of Bree growing up; she was going back again.

"Are you going to tell him about Alex?" Bree asked.

Claire sighed. She had struggled with that very question for months. Ever since she found out that Jamie might be alive still. Would she tell him he had a son and then tell him that his son had died fighting a war in a foreign land for people he didn't know and many of whom didn't want to be saved?

"No. I won't," she said, "Why tell him had a son and then make him mourn that son in the next breath? No. I won't break Jamie's heart like that. He's already lost one child, I won't make him lose another."

Bree kissed her mom. "Ok. It's your decision. I love you. Stay safe."

Claire smiled. "I love you more, stay safer."

 _April 1971 (the present)_

Jamie took a moment to take in Lallybroch. The stables were run down and looked like they hadn't seen horse flesh in years. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, the steps were cracked and cracking. The roof was in need of patching, although it looked as though someone had already started on that. He took a deep, full breath, filling his lungs with Scottish air for the first time in years.

He looked over at Claire and found her eyes already on him, soaking him in.

"James Alexander Malcom MacKenzie Fraser, you in your natural habitat is something to behold." She came over and kissed him. "Now, why don't you get our Miss Murray and bring her inside where we can all warm up and get out of this rain."

Sure enough, as she said the words, the skies opened and it started to rain. Jamie blinked and looked up at the sky before throwing his arms out and laughing. How he had missed the Scottish rain. The way the land smelt and the rivers ran wilder and the heather bloomed. He had missed this country.

Claire laughed at him, "Come on Jamie, you're getting wet."

He smiled as he pulled Genny into his arms and turned to try and protect her from most of the rain.

A light in the house switched on.

"Looks like someone's home, shall we go introduce ourselves, my love?" Claire asked.

"After you, Sassenach."

Claire smiled and walked toward the house. She lifted her hand to knock on the door, trying to think of a good story as to why they were there and why Genny was unconscious. Before she could knock, the door swung open and she stumbled back in shock.

"Claire," she heard Jamie say, "Are ye alright?"

She heard her husband, but couldn't register his words because there before her was her son. The son that she had thought dead for the past three years.

"Alex?" her voice quivered and her hand cautiously reached toward him as though she were afraid he would disappear at any moment.

The man in front of her smiled with tears of his own in his eyes.

"It's me, Mom."

Claire sobbed and threw herself at the son she'd thought she'd lost.

Jamie came up behind them, still holding Genny.

"Claire, ya know this man?"

Claire looked back at Jamie and then to Alex before letting go of him and stepping back so Jamie could get a good look at the man before them.

Jamie stopped, stunned. If he didn't know better he would have said the man before him was a ghost of his former self. He looked at Claire for an explanation.

Claire took a deep breath before saying, "Jamie, this is our son, Brianna's twin brother, Alexander Franklin Randall…Fraser."


End file.
